Burkes vs Alworths
by Desmothenes87
Summary: Peter get's talked into appearing on Wife-Swap as a goodwill gesture for the Bureau. *Story meant to be mostly in-cannon, but humorous and slightly unrealistic. Rated T for safety, although story should be more K.
1. We Have To Do What?

**A/N:** A special thanks to Peppe1951, pechika and anon for reviewing Chapter 15 of Crosshairs. You guys are so awesome! I'm planning on taking some of the ideas, and writing them into Parenting for Dummy's chapters to how things play out before considering a longer story.

I really want to do the Wife-Swap story since the others have been so serious. It probably won't be as long as the rest, but will include Ender because you need kids to be on the show. Yes, it's not at all realistic for an agent to be on the show, but White-Collar is television so creative license is allowed.

Still trying to figure out which type of family to swap with the Burkes. I've been re-watching past episodes trying to figure out who might clash the best, but not make the story too crazy. Anyway, here is the first chapter. It's Peter finding out about being on the show. Don't worry there will still be tons of Neal, (and the other characters) because who wouldn't want to observe this humiliation play out first hand. Crosshairs will be finished too; do not worry. Just want to test the waters with a new idea.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Jeff Easton except Ender who is mine. No profit is made from the writing of this story.

* * *

**We Have To Do What?**

Peter Burke sat in his boss's office, scowling at the man seated behind the desk, arms folded tightly across his chest. "No Reece…absolute not – I refuse," he grit out from around clenched teeth.

"Oh come on Peter, it won't be so bad." Agent Reece Hughes held up placating hands.

"Won't be so bad?" Peter could feel his blood pressure rising with every breath. "Do you want to be the one that explains this to Elizabeth because by all means, I'll dial her for you right now." Snatching the phone off Hughes's desk Peter held his fingers poised over the buttons ready to press down.

"Oh for goodness sakes Agent Burke," Hughes snapped, yanking the phone out of the other man's hand. "You're head of New York's White Collar division; you have a beautiful, talented and successful wife, a lovely home and an adorable child…when he's not trying to take over the world." Hughes added the last bit rapidly and under his breath. "You are exactly the type of agent we want presented to the public.

"Reece, I just don't get it. Why me? I know we don't always see eye to eye on cases, or how I sometimes run my office or Neal...mostly Neal. But have I really pissed you off that badly?." Peter pleaded.

Hughes held up a hand. "I can assure you Peter this is nothing personal. The deputy director approached me about finding a model agent, who's married and has children."

Peter immediately jumped in. "Well, that takes us out the running. They are looking for children plural, and unlike some people, we do not consider our pets to be that type of member of the family."

The senior agent gave Peter a look at interrupting him. "Or a child. Peter, we've been getting some bad press lately, and even though it's through no fault of our own, the higher-ups thought it would be a good idea to showcase us in a more positive light. We are people who not only care about serving our country, but who are devoted to our family."

"Yes but Wife-Swap." Peter spit out. "This isn't some 'Welcome to Our Home' documentary where I just have to smile for a few minutes. Have you seen that show?"

"Have you?" Reece replied, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Peter paused mid-rant, contemplating what Hughes had just asked. "I…No…Wait…" He sputtered a bit, meeting the senior agent's jovial expression.

"Okay, may be once or twice, because El was watching it. My point is the people who like to go one those shows are nuts. Families who dressed up like pirates all the time, or who only ate raw foods. Do you really want me to miss a month of work over Salmonellae from eating uncooked chicken?"

"I don't think it will be that bad."

Peter stood up. "Then no offence Reese, but why don't you volunteer for the show?"

"With ex Mrs Hughes one or two? Sit down Peter." Hughes commanded as Peter turned to leave.

The agent dropped back down in the chair in what almost looked like a pout. "Look, when the show approached us about doing an episode the Bureau set down a few ground rules, if they were to even consider it. We get final say in the footage that will be aired to ensure nothing classified or case-related will be shown, and they only get copyrights to the footage we agree to. And if they show anything on-air that violates this we have the right to confiscate all footage and press criminal charges."

"I was thinking more about my personal pride, but it's nice to know the Bureau is covering its ass." Peter muttered.

"Look, talk it over with Elizabeth, she can even call me if she wants. Just think of the favour you would be doing for the bosses, that might come in handy the next time Caffrey pulls one of his stunts."

Peter couldn't argue with that, although he wasn't sure public humiliation was worth one favour, even where Neal was concerned. "I'll talk to El," he finally conceded, then got out and stormed over to his office.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later he was still fuming.

_Flowers_, he thought. Okay, so El would suspect something was wrong the moment he walked through the door with them, but maybe it would help soften the blow. Or maybe he would be staying over at Neal's for a few days, and he should start thinking about what to pack, and how to ask Neal.

A knock at the door alerted him to reality and he motioned Neal into the office. The man had his 'I'm feeling guilty but trying to look charming so you won't notice look'.

"I take it the meeting with Hughes didn't go well," Neal ventured, gauging Peter's expression as he spoke.

Peter just shrugged, knowing Neal could see his irritation.

Neal plunged on. "I just want you to know that whatever he thinks I did, there is a perfectly good explanation for it. Agent Donnelly wanted me to have those tickets."

Wow, Neal was just about to confess to something. Peter put his anger on hold and sat up a little straighter. "Oh he did huh?"

"And the fact that he was willing to trade the tickets to me an exchange for the opportunity to write my reports, only goes to show what a valuable experience he gained out of this." Neal continued, flashing his trademark grin in an attempt to appease Peter.

"I see," Peter continued neutrally. "And which tickets are these?"

"To the new exhibit at the Met, this show on Neoclassicism…" he trailed off, giving Peter a sidewise glance. "You didn't know about the tickets, did you?"

"No, and while we are on the topic you are not Tom Sawyer, but since you seem to have so much spare time on your hands, you can ask Jones and Diana for a couple of there cases, to help fill your time, and make you feel more like a productive member of society." Peter waved Neal off with his hand only to have the other man ignore the gesture and take a seat in front of the agent's desk.

"Peter, I am doing my best to spread goodwill around this office, and your negative attitude is messing with my positive vibrations. Hey what's this?" Neal reached for a copy of the paperwork Hughes had given Peter regarding the show.

"Give that back," Peter snapped reaching forward in a vain attempt to snatch the folder out of Neal's hand.

Neal shoved his chair backwards, just out of reach and scanned the papers. "Wife-swap. That crazy show with the people who eat raw meat."

At Peter's look Neal added. "June and Cindy like to watch it."

Trying to control his rising irritation Peter managed to reach over his desk and seize the papers from Neal's fingers.

"The FBI is worried about their image and think this is the solution." Peter muttered, already feeling his face shade pink.

"Putting an agent on Wife-Swap or putting you on Wife-Swap?" Neal asked.

Peter gave his collar a nervous tug. "Apparently agents with wives and children are in short demand. Their other candidate is Agent Harrison."

"The guy who collects decorative figurines? He's married?" Neal bit his tongue to keep from laughing.

"With three children, two boys and a girl." Peter shrugged.

The conman looked down for a moment, then back up a mischievous twinkle in his eye. It was the exact same one Neal had given before he asked to meet El's parents. "Peter," he began.

"No," the agent cut him off.

"You don't even know what I was going to ask." Neal pointed out.

"You want me to invite you to stay over during the swap. And there's no way in hell."

"I'm only thinking about this from a friend's perspective." Neal gave him the big eyes. "You have no idea what the new wife will be like. I'm here to offer you my fullest support, day and night." He emphasized the point with his finger.

"You just want to get footage you can show to the other people in the office. The answer is no."

Neal looked hurt. "I can't believe you would think that little of me Peter."

"Says the person who still keeps a photo of me during my moustache days in your top drawer."

The conman rolled his eyes. "Everyone and their mother has seen that photo, I just keep it for sentimental reasons. It was your guise during the best days of our chase."

Peter merely shook his head then gathered up the papers and threw them into a desk drawer.

"Have you told Elizabeth?" Neal asked.

"I'm researching flower vendors right now." Peter responded.

* * *

Peter didn't think this could get any worse until El laughed in his face. He was preparing himself for a few angry words but not this.

"Wait a second, let me get this straight." She gasped out. "The Bureau wants us to go on Wife-Swap to help improve its image. Are you sure this isn't one of Neal's practical jokes?"

"It's us or Agent Harrison," Peter mumbled.

"The guy who collects figurines," El chuckled. Then her expression tightened. "Wait you're serious about this?"

"I got you flowers." Peter added timidly holding out the two-dozen roses.

"So we're expected to shuffle our lives around for two weeks, I have to travel to a completely different state, and some stranger is going to live here, all for good publicity."

"Are you worried something's going to happen, because El, you know I would never..." Peter jumped in sounding horrified.

"You think I'm worried you would cheat? Honey, that show is fun for a laugh, but have you seen the people they choose to have on it. I couldn't trust them to run my business, we have Ender now; he's a handful. And you can't exactly just take off for two weeks and leave White-Collar to Neal's tender mercies. Surely there is someone who actually wants to be on the show. Why us?"

"Uhhh…" Peter stammered. "You're beautiful and successful, Ender's cute and we have a nice house?"

"You realise you said that in the form of a question, don't you."

"Hughes already assured me the Bureau will screen all footage before it airs."

El cocked her head and surveyed him, looking puzzled. "You're trying awfully hard to convince me this, I thought you didn't want to be on the show."

"God no," Peter sat down next to her and handed her the flowers. "It's just that, well…Hughes pointed out the higher ups really want this, and it might mean a favour the next time Neal…does something Neal-like. And I don't know what they would do if I refused, I really don't want to go back to the evidence warehouse hon."

El gave him a smile. "I guess two weeks won't be that bad. I mean, if I can survive being kidnapped by Keller I can survive a weird family."

Peter leaned over and kissed her. "You are the best wife a husband could ask for."

El gathered up the flowers, stood and went to find a vase. "But it wouldn't be bad to start planning another trip to the Caribbean."


	2. Mrs Alworth

**A/N:** A special thanks to readers who left reviews, favourited and/or followed this story. Instead of personally to each of you I'm showing my thanks by posting another chapter. I thought a lot about what type of family to swap with the Burkes and hope the Alworths, will create many opportunities for fun and conflict. I incorporated suggestions from reviewers, families on Wife Swap, and a few acquaintances with unusual household practices to create a family who would clash, but not be so over the top, the story can't stay in cannon.

This chapter is a little slower and mainly about Mrs. Alworth exploring the house, reading the manual and meeting Peter and Ender. The description of the Burke's house is taken directly from the show with the exception of Ender's room, because well, he's OC. If you want to, th following link was my inspiration (take out the spaces) for Ender's room and pretty cool. I don't think it would actual fit in the town house but...cough...cough...creative license.

www. mymodernmet profiles/blogs/ultimate-pirate-ship-bedroom

* * *

**Mrs. Alworth**

A day after Hughes roped him into this horrific experience Peter was left to wonder how Neal, who could be so tight-lipped about his own life, gossiped worse than a middle school cheerleader when it came Peter's. The agent might as well have made an announcement over the intercom.

By noon it seemed everyone in the FBI's New York City Field Office had some sort of advice to offer Peter about how to handle his time on the show, all given with barely contain grins.

His own unit was slightly more helpful. Jones kindly volunteered himself and some of the other agents to rotate van shifts outside Peter's house, each night, in case this person turned out to be a raving psychopath. And, Diana said that even though Peter was too much of a gentleman to ever hit a woman, she would be more than happy to do so if such a situation arose.

Even Hughes seemed sympathetic telling Peter he could help arrange 'emergencies' that required the agent's immediate attention if Peter ever needed out of the house, in a pinch.

Neal was the worse, informing Peter with a Cheshire grin, that the full force of both himself and Mozzie were at Peter's full disposal, and Mozzie was even offering to bug the house with some of his Russian surplus in case Peter wanted to monitor the new mom while he wasn't home.

"I will not now, or ever agree to Mozzie bugging my home. Stop trying to find ways to get potential blackmail material." Peter pointed at the door in an effort steer Neal out of his office.

"Will you at least let me stay over?" Neal asked hopefully, putting on his most pleading expression.

Peter shot him a death glare. "No."

"I promise I'm only offering as a good friend." He begged.

"May be if you hadn't blabbed, about my current predicament, to the entire building I might actual believe that." Peter snapped back.

"I was just helping to get everyone on your side. In case you need help later on when this person turns out to be crazy."

"We'll be fine." Peter pointed a the door again.

Neal shrugged nonchalantly. "Okay, but when you have to dress up like a court jester, or eat monkey brains, do not come crying to me for help."

"All right." Peter held up his hands in defeat. "No, you can't stay over, but you can come around to hang out like you usually do."

Neal's eyes lit up. "Since El is an event planner you should have her host some sort of party to meet everyone and you can invite all of us. She might be nicer to you after she meets a room full of federal agents with guns. And Diana would probably threaten her if you asked nicely."

"Just as long as you don't invite Mozzie." The agent dropped back down in his chair. "Go finish your reports before you annoy me so much that I change my mind."

Neal smirked, gave him a mock salute and sauntered from the room.

* * *

Two weeks arrived faster than Peter wanted. The camera crews came to film their introductions and soon Elizabeth was climbing into the limo.

"Be yourself," were her parting words to Ender, who put his puppy down so he could cling to her one last time. Peter hoped she meant the adorable, charming, I'm the cutest kid in the world self, because the other would lead to more headaches than he cared to think about.

To Peter a simple "Love you hon," and a peck on the lips was enough.

The new mom wouldn't be arriving until late afternoon so Peter spent that time worrying a hole in the rug before putting Ender in the Taurus and taking him out for frozen yoghurt while they waited for this lady to explore the home and read the manual.

* * *

Victoria Alworth stepped out of the limo and surveyed the three-story townhouse with a bit of disdain.

"No yard and there's bars on the basement windows, but this is New York City. I hope no one mugs me," she muttered to herself as she surreptitiously glanced up and down the street before pushing open the gate and ascending the steps to windowed front doors. "At least their house looks neat; I was worried I'd be stuck with a family of slobs."

Walking through the foyer and the second door she entered the living room. "Okay this is almost too neat …Oh my god, they have pets! That looks like a basket of chew toys." Then keeping her voice low because of the cameras, "If I have to clean up #$ & while I'm here I will not be happy." And with that she pulled a travel bottle of anti-bacterial soap out of her purse and proceeded to rub it all over her hands.

Next, Victoria wandered over to the fireplace, to examine the photos on display. "Well, they look like a nice little family except," she squinted, "is that a boy or a girl? I hope they don't have some sort of weird androgynous child-rearing views. Next to the family photo was a picture of the same child dressed in a white shirt, blue shorts and Wellington boots with a bucket on his head like a hat. "What on earth?" she gasped. "They let him act like an animal."

She glanced in the kitchen and wrinkled her nose at the dog dishes before commenting. "Does this lady cook, because I will not be eating take-out. I heard big city people like to order out all the time, and just…yuck."

The second floor revealed a master bedroom with a queen-sized bed immaculately made with a yellow and white comforter, a dresser and vanity, and bookcase with books and photographs all perfectly arranged. "Either she's a decorator or these people are loaded." the woman muttered. "This house looks like an ad for Better Home and Gardens."

The other rooms were all tastefully designed as well, with colourful walls, and artfully arranged furniture, vases and photographs. She was just wondering if they put the child in the basement, where hopefully the animals slept, when she opened the last door on the third floor and her jaw dropped. The room had high ceilings that clearly stretched all the way up to the attic ceiling. The blue walls, twin child's bed, mac computer, and white bookshelves, were pretty typical for a boy's room, but the far wall had part of a ship anchored to the wall, complete with gang plank leading up to it. It was reachable by climbing a wooden ladder on the outside of a stone closet like structure with bars for a door.

"What kid needs a room like this? Dear god, I bet he's a brat." Victoria exclaimed looking around. She didn't have time to explore further though because a dog's barking caused her to jump and suddenly a tiny black and brown puppy was in front of her snarling and yapping at the top of its lungs.

"Shoo, go away," she shook her hand at it, restraining herself from kicking the dog on national television. The puppy refused to listen and kept up the racket until she all but ran from the room and back to the main floor. "Rabies infested little rat," Victoria mumbled and dropped down into a chair at the kitchen table where she could re-sanitize her hands and read the manual, resting at the head of the small kitchen table.

_Burke Family Manual_

_My name is Elizabeth Burke and may I be the first to welcome you to the Burke home._

"Humph…some welcome."

_My husband Peter and I have one son – Timothy (7). Although let me tell you he prefers Ender, and we only call him Timothy on rare occasions._

_Peter and I have been married for almost 15 years and have loved every minute of it. _

"She is in serious denial, nobody is that happy after 15 years of marriage_." _

_Peter is an FBI agent in the White Collar division so he often works long and extremely odd hours._

"Oh great."

_This is the nature of his job and I knew that when I married him. Due to the sensitivity of his work I can't go into further detail but please know his job is low risk and you shouldn't have to worry about your safety._

"Just so long as his work stays at the office."

_Peter is a wonderful man who takes great care of us, and I couldn't ask for a better husband. He is an avid sports fan, especially baseball, and we often enjoy watching sports together as a family. He also coaches Ender's little league team._

"At least that kid does something normal."

_I run my own business, Burke Premiere Events, and plan everything from weddings and birthday parties, to art gallery openings in the New York City area._

"Explains this Martha Stewart house."

_My job offers me the chance to meet new people from all walks of life and I hope you will enjoy a similar experience during your time here. I have an office in the city, although I sometimes work from home as well. I'm often travelling to meet clients, caterers, florists, or other businesses when planning a venue._

"So who watches the kid?"

_Peter and I adopted Ender about 18 months ago from foster care, after meeting him during one of Peter's cases. I promised EnderI would ask you not to give him a hard time about his accent because people always do._

"That's what speech therapy is for lady."

_Ender attends Manhattan Prep as a straight A student, and is pretty self-reliant when it comes to chores and schoolwork.  
_

"No kid is self-motivated without a good kick in the butt, and constant supervision."

_His favourite activity is Kung Fu and he loves attending class three times a week._

"Good grief, he's in training to be a little thug."

_He's the current 10 and under champion in the East Coast Division with an invite to Nationals. Peter and I give him very few rules except to be respectful and no planning of anything criminal._

"This lackadaisical rule system will end the second I take control and maybe even before that."

_He comes from a difficult background so Peter and I enjoy spoiling him, his favourite present being his min-pin puppy Cafall (pronounced Caval) he got this past Christmas._

"What a bunch of permissive hacks."

_Although Ender loves sarcasm,overall I think he's a very sweet and well-behaved kid. I'm sure you two will get along.  
_

"That kid back talks me and I'll wash his mouth out with soap."

_Peter and I both keep pretty busy schedules so depending on the day Ender will hang out at one of our offices after school, or he spends time with Ms June a friend of the family. She has grandchildren around Ender's age, and they love playing together._

"You take your kid into the office? What kind of parent does that?"

_The only other thing of note is that depending on the case Peter has agents from the office in and out of the house, sometimes at late hours._

"Not while I'm here."

_I wish you the best of luck and look forward to meeting you at the end of two weeks._

_Elizabeth Burke_

Victoria sanitized her hands for the third time then went back into the living room when directed by the camera crew to wait for the arrival of the family.

A few minutes later the key sounded in the lock and in walked the husband, the child on his heels. The boy seemed to be jabbering about a mile a minute, and Victoria couldn't tell if the father understood what he was saying or not, but he seemed to hum in agreement every few sentences.

She rose to meet them, and although the man, Peter, appeared a bit awkward, he held out his hand and shook hers. "Peter Burke," he greeted.

"Victoria Alworth," she responded, resisting the urge to clean her hands again.

"And this is Ender," Peter put a hand on the child's thin shoulder to help guide him forward. The boy gave an utterly charming grin Victoria refused to trust, and pulled a single red rose from behind his back, holding it out. "For you Ms. Victoria, to welcome you to our home," he said and Victoria immediately understood Elizabeth's reference to the accent. The child sounded British. He had good diction so may be he wouldn't need a speech therapist come rule change.

Peter gestured for her to sit back down and he sat as well. "So, uhh welcome." He didn't seem to know what to say.

"Where are you from?" Ender piped up. "Was it a long trip?"

"Charleston, South Carolina, and no the flight wasn't too long. I was glad I didn't have to change time zones." Victoria responded. "You have a lovely home," she added trying to make polite conversation.

Peter looked around for a moment and gave a bit of a smile as if remembering a fond memory. "My wife El, she's an event planner and she always says 'presentation is everything'. I just let her do her thing."

There was an awkward pause where Victoria couldn't think of anything to say that didn't seem rude, and then Peter ventured. "So tell us a little about _your_ family."

Victoria paused. "My husband Tom and I have three kids, Samuel – 11, Cayden – 8, Taylor – 6. We both work from home and I home school them. My philosophy is that children need constant direction and guidance, because they can't be trusted to make their own decisions. Basically, I'm the boss and what I tell them goes," she finally concluded to which Peter gave an uncomfortable nod and looked rather speechless.

"We're also on an completely organic, high vegetable diet. Farmers market only because I don't like the pesticides of any kind. Research shows 19 of 30 commonly used lawn pesticides and 28 of 40 commonly used school pesticides are linked to cancer, which is part of why we choose to homeschool. You can't be too careful when it comes to being healthy."

"I'm more of a meat and potatoes guy myself, but El has a vegetable garden out back, and likes to bring home samples from the caterers a lot." Peter was already having horrible visions of how this time would turn out, but refused to say so in front of the cameras.

He could handle talking to people during a case, and even a backyard barbeque, or ball game, but this was like flirting, except without the actual trying to pick up the other person part. He was struggling to think of something else to ask when there was a knock at the door. The agent jerked his head over, but Ender was already on his feet with an "I'll get it."

The kid swung open the door and Peter only had to hear the voice to recognise who it was.

"Oh for crying out loud," he muttered then clamped his lips together, remember Victoria Alworth and the camera's were in hearing range.

A moment later Neal strode in, his saccharine conman grin on his face. The camera crews immediately focused on him, and Victoria looked startled glancing from Peter to Neal and back again, clearly looking for some sort of explanation.

"Hello Neal," Peter grit out rising to meet the other man. "I didn't realise you would be coming over this afternoon."

"Oh I was heading home from the Met and thought I'd stop by since I was in the neighbourhood." Neal shrugged and smiled, showing off his white teeth for he cameras. One of the female film crew eyed him with interest, and he gave her a coy grin.

"You live on the other side of town," Peter hissed, with an as intense glare as he could manage without appearing to come unglued on film.

"Open invitation, remember?" Neal whispered back him and walked over, offering his hand to Victoria. "Neal Caffrey, Peter's partner," he told her.

"Partner," Victoria stammered. "The manual didn't say anything about you being… uh…"

"My FBI partner," Peter practically growled. "We work together."

Victoria coloured at her mistake, but she politely shook Neal's hand. "Nice to meet you Neal. Have you two worked together long?"

"Three years," Neal continued as if no embarrassing mistake had been made. "Being in the FBI can sometimes lead to some dangerous situations and partners are always very involved in each others lives. Needless to say Peter would be lost without me."

"I was under the impression your work was pretty low risk. At least that's what the manual said." Victoria's eyes went wide.

"Usually," Neal ventured on ignoring the dirty look Peter was giving him. "But just last year there was Keller who actually kid…"

"Thank you Neal," Peter cut him off, stepping forward in an effort to redraw Victoria's attention.

Neal finally seemed to take the hint, and didn't offer further information, much to the disappointment of the film crew who had all leaned in to catch the juicy details.

"Well, it is just about dinner time. Ender go feed the dogs, and then set the table." Peter told the kid, and brushed past everyone towards the kitchen, in a hopes to waylay Neal from creating further problems.

Victoria noted the kid scowled at the request and then stalked off returning a few minutes later, with the demon puppy, from the bedroom, in his arms. Victoria had begun slicing potatoes to boil and mash, praying they came from an organic market.

"You like dogs?" Ender asked as put the puppy down and went to measure out food.

"No," she responded, glaring at demon puppy, as she slid the potatoes from the cutting board to the pot.

Ender made a face at her. "Well we have two so I guess you'll have to get used to them." With that he opened the back door and gave a sharp whistle. Moments later a golden lab came bounding in, and skidded to a stop in front of his bowl. "Good boy Satchmo," Ender said as he watched both dogs devour their food.

Victoria felt her lip curl, over the animals or the child's rudeness she couldn't be sure. Probably both. First chance she had, she was talking to Peter about why his son was allowed to disrespect adults.


	3. The Rest of The Alworths

**A/N:** I am still working on Crosshairs and hope to have a new chapter posted soon. But this story just seems to be writing better right now, so I want to work on it while the ideas keep coming. This chapter focuses on Elizabeth with the other family. Like the previous chapter it is a bit slower because she is exploring the house and meeting everyone, but things should pick up during the next couple chapters once the swap is in full force. I'm trying to keep things realistic, although I guess if anyone as seen the show, pretty much anything goes.

Elizabeth always comes across as very classy, but still seems very capable of holding her own against demanding people. You have to be, to be in her line of work. I try to bring that out in the chapter.

* * *

**The Rest of The Alworths**

Elizabeth stepped out of the limo in front a brick front, one story home. It was an ordinary rectangle shape with an A-line roof. The lawn was neat, but with brown patches scattered around. She wondered how much rain they had this year.

The camera crew had prepped her with instructions to talk to the camera so they could record her thoughts and feelings. It felt rather odd doing that, like she was talking to herself, but an internal rant of "We're going to the Caribbean," helped her get through.

"Very different from New York," she stated neutrally. "We don't have this much yard in the city."

Unlocking the white front door and stepping inside, her first thoughts were how plain everything looked. The walls were beige with white trim and simple wood floors. In the living room, immediately when she walked in, was a beige couch, wooden coffee table, two brown chairs and a small television set on a stand. It was not anything Elizabeth would have chosen to live in, but years of planning events to other people's preference had taught her to tactfully express her opinions of their poor tastes.

"They seem to like a neutral colour scheme," she noted. "I personally prefer a bit more colour, but it's important that people decorate their house to their own liking." Okay, that sounded better than, _This family has to be some of the most boring and unstylish people on the planet._

Having seen the show, Elizabeth wanted to dive right in and read the manual, however the producers preferred them to tour the house first.

The kitchen was beige (big surprise) with white cabinets and a darker shade of brown for the granite counter tops. Everything was spotless and the smell of cleaner was pungent in the air.

The dining room held a traditional wooden table with six chairs situated around it, one at each end, and two per the longer sides.

"Hopefully we'll be eating meals as a family so I can get to know everyone."

_And hopefully getting to know them won't make me run screaming from the room._

The Master bedroom had a bit of colour to offset the plain cream walls with a green comforter and shams to go with cream sheets and simple wooded furniture. The closet held a mix of casual to slightly dressier type clothes, but nothing that spoke of the stylish fashions Elizabeth was used to as a New Yorker.

"I have a feeling I will be overdressed and she will be underdressed," she commented softly, hoping it didn't sound too pretentious.

The kid's rooms were perhaps of most interest to her. El had always wanted children, but before Ender came along she had basically given up on that dream. She was excited to interact with other children besides her son as a maternal figure. From the single, family photo on the dresser the kids appeared to be spread out in age, but still in elementary school.

Disappointedly the kids' rooms were as plain as the rest of the house. The girls' room had two beds each made with a pink comforter. Everything was neat and orderly, with two desks, lots of books on the shelves, and a few toys carefully arranged throughout the room, but nothing that spoke to the personalities and interests of the occupants. Elizabeth was also dismayed to find no dolls or stuffed animals about. As a girl she had dozens of 'friends' and with the exception of that creepy Chucky like doll that had been stuffed into a crawl space, she played with them all for hours.

The boy's room was no better. Really the only difference between the two was that this room had one bed and a blue comforter. "This tells me absolutely nothing about these kids or what their interests are," she remarked rather sadly. This was starting to look like it was shaping up to a rough week and she hadn't even read the manual. "Come rule change I would love to see a little more self-expression."

Finally, she made her way back to the kitchen and crew set the camera so they could shoot the classic scene of her sitting, opening the manual and preparing to read.

Alworth Family Manual

_Hello and welcome to the Alworth home. As new mom you will be replacing me, Victoria Alworth. My husband Tom and I have three children, a boy Samuel – 11 and two girls, Cayden – 8, Taylor – 6._

_Tom works out of the house as a realtor, although he travels around the area quite a bit to show houses. _

Elizabeth bit her lip just in time to refrain from blurting out, 'He's in the real estate business and you live here.'

_He and I have been married for twelve years and we look to him to be the man of the house and provide financially for our family. _

_I am a stay at home mom and believe children need constant supervision in order to grow up to become productive members of society. Left to their own devices they will become law-breaking hooligans who waste taxpayer's money by cluttering up our prisons. I do my best to avoid that specific societal group, since they are a bad influence on others._

Elizabeth shook her head. "Meeting Neal should be an interesting experience then."

_I dictate all aspects of my children's lives including how they dress, what activities they participate in and who to select as their friends. Tom and I demand respect and our children address us as sir and ma'am._

"I'm all for respect, but that seems a little dictatorial." Elizabeth shrugged thinking, 'good luck getting Ender to call you ma'am.'

_I home school the children for several reasons. First, I can control the quality of education they receive. Education is crucial to go far in this life, and I expect my children to put forth their best effort in achieving a high academic standard._

"We may just have found the one thing she and I agree on."

_Second, home-schooling allows Tom and I better control over our children's friends. We do not want them interacting with children who might have a bad influence over them and encourage illicit type behaviours._

At reading that Elizabeth suddenly began to laugh out loud, then abruptly stopped, remember the cameras were recording ever reaction. She knew the camera crew had no idea what was so funny to her, but she couldn't help but think about Neal and Mozzie and their escapades with Ender. She continued reading in an effort to find something else to comment on, and hope her previous outburst was edited out.

_Finally, home schooling protects our children from exposure to dangerous substances such as pesticides. Twenty-eight of forty commonly used school pesticides are linked to cancer and I do not want my children breathing in toxic fumes, day in and day out._

_I also keep my house very clean, since I dislike germs of any kind. One thing of note, which I do, is to spray __Lysol__, between the bed sheets every morning, before making them. This helps kills any germs, which might be present. We also eat an organic diet with very little meat. Most of our foods are purchased from two specific farmer's markets, known for not using pesticides on their foods._

"She sounds very heath conscious, although I don't know how Peter will do eating tofu for a week."

_If you have any problems with the children please speak with Tom about discipline. We often put the children in the corner or make them do extra chores if they misbehave, and he can show you which infraction orders what severity of punishment._

_Hopefully you will have two excellent weeks. I trust you can learn a lot from our family, and I'm sure I can teach yours many ways to improve as well._

_Victoira Alworth_

El spent the last two weeks mentally prepping herself for this time, no matter how difficult. However, she didn't know how good her experience would be when the other mom only made reference to how she would going to change Elizabeth's family for the better.

"I'm really not sure how to respond to that," she told the camera. "I just don't understand why someone would _volunteer_ to be on this show if they didn't want to at least learn from the other family. I guess we'll just have to see how things play out."

The camera crew directed her to sit in the front living room, and she situated herself on the couch, ankles crossed, waiting for everyone to arrive.

When she heard the key in the lock she rose, smoothing her blouse and adjusting her necklace. She had tried to be casual during the trip, opting for jeans and flats with a green top and a few simple pieces of jewellery. It was a typical weekend outfit, stylish, but still comfortable.

The husband walked in first, followed by three silent children. He was a bit taller than her, but not as tall as Peter, and probably just under six feet.

Elizabeth smiled and took his hand when he offered it. "I'm Tom Alworth," he introduced himself and waited for her to respond.

"Elizabeth Burke, but El is fine," she told him and quickly turned to the children.

They each took her hand and offered a shy smile, stating their names.

Everybody took his or her seats and Tom asked her about herself.

"I'm from New York City." El explained. "My husband Peter and I adopted one child about 18 months ago, Ender. He turned seven last month. I work as an event planner, and Peter works for the FBI investigating white collar crime."

"Sounds like an interesting life. I hope it's not dangerous." He suddenly added looking concerned. El could understand considering it was his wife who was now there.

"Peter's good about keeping work at the office," she told the man, knowing her husband would be more likely to keep work there with another woman in the house. "And white collar crime tends to mean business fraud and that sort of thing. Non-violent type crimes."

"Like Bernie Madoff?" He questioned.

El nodded, liking that he could make that connection. "Exactly."

Mr. Alworth seemed to consider that and looked a bit relieved.

"So I read the manual," El ventured. "You're a real estate broker?"

Tom nodded. "Yes, I work mainly from the house since Victoria likes it when I'm here for her and the kids. Her parents were very involved in her life so she wants to do the same thing."

"I saw she home schools. My son attends a private school, but I've always wondered about home schooling. What do you kids think about it?" She turned her attention to the children, anxious to interact with them more.

They looked at her somewhat surprised to be drawn into the conversation, and El couldn't be sure but she thought the boy muttered, "It sucks."

The middle child, Cayden supplied the answer. "It's okay. Sometimes I'd like to see my friends more," she gave her father a cautious glance, "but we learn lots of stuff. I know all my multiplication tables up to twelve," she suddenly added with a gleam in her eye. "Wanna hear?"

"You will have plenty of time to recite them for Ms. Elizabeth during school hours Cayden," her father cut her off and the girl dropped her head in disappointment.

"What's your son like?" the youngest girl piped up. "Cause he's seven and I'm going to turn seven in one month so we're practically the same age."

"Well," El began not sure which parts she wanted to share. "Peter and I adopted him from foster care. We met him while Peter was working on a case, and he just seemed like the right fit for our family. He loves martial arts, and just won the championship title for the 10 and under Kung Fu competition in the east coast district. He's going to compete at Nationals in two months."

"Cool," the boy responded. "I wanna learn how to beat somebody's ass."

"Samuel," his father snapped. "We do not use words like that, go stand in the corner."

Samuel looked sulky but muttered, "Yes Sir," got up and walked over to the far corner, facing it, and folding his arms.

"That sounds intense, you aren't concerned for his safety?" Tom asked.

El shrugged. "Not really, they wear padding to spar so it's pretty safe. What do your kids like to do? Are they involved in any sports or clubs?"

"Victoria doesn't like them participating in something where they might get hurt so we don't really do sports, but they're part of a local chess club, and Cayden and Taylor are learning how to knit."

El looked at the girls who both made faces, but smoothed them out the moment before their father looked their way.

* * *

All Elizabeth could think to say to the camera's later, during the filming of the 'confessionals' segment was, "It seems like Victoria really dictates what goes on in this family, but it would be nice to let the kids have some choices to explore their own likes and interests."


	4. I Don't Do Dinner Parties

**A/N:** Thanks again to all the wonderful reviewers. I wish I had time to respond to people, but I think (hope) people are more interested in simply reading the next chapter, so that is where my focus lies. This is a rather short chapter, but I wanted to get it posted. Hope readers enjoy.

* * *

**I Don't Do Dinner Parties**

As frustrated as Peter was that Neal showed up unannounced, at least now he didn't have to make conversation with Victoria during dinner. The agent had already dealt with the first major conflict between her and Ender, and didn't trust himself to remain cordial.

Apparently Victoria didn't like dogs, or animals of any kind, and two in the house made her irritable. As soon as introductions were over she immediately told Peter how Cafall 'tried to bite her leg off' while she explored the house, and that vicious rat like thing shouldn't be allowed around people.

Then she told Peter he needed to put the animals outside, because it wasn't sanitary to cook with them in the house.

Peter, not in the mood for a fight, was simply going to send them upstairs when Ender begin yelling at her, that Cafall was not now, or ever going to be left outside regardless of what Victoria might say.

Victoria yelled back at him about being disrespectful before directing her anger at Peter for allowing Ender to talk to her that way.

Ender, who wasn't afraid of anyone, told her Cafall lived there first and if she didn't like him in the house she was more them welcome to stay outside instead.

Then he had picked up his puppy and stormed out of the room, the entire scene playing out in front of the cameras.

Peter really hoped the bureau was serious about editing the footage, because if not, he hoped he could find some way to chalk that little tantrum up to PTSD. Leaving Neal to finish setting the table, and hopefully placate Victoria, he went to talk to his son.

Ender was on his bed, looking forlorn, with Cafall curled up next to him.

"It wasn't polite to yell. You know better," Peter told him sitting down.

Ender just shrugged and scowled.

"Can you at least try to make these two weeks bearable by playing along? I'm in the same boat you know."

The kid pinched his lips together. "I was playing along. I was nothing but nice to her; I even gave her a flower. And she thanks me by calling Cafall a rat. It's not his fault he's little. I mean, what is she...musophobic. It's discrimination."

"In her defence, Neal called Cafall a rat too." Peter gave the kid a smile.

Ender ignored the comment. "She thinks animals only belong in the zoo behind bars. She should spend a day behind bars to see what it feels like."

The agent touched his finger to Ender's lips in an effort to calm him down. "Some people aren't used to pets. I told you to lock Cafall in his cage before we left."

"I did. But I also taught him to open the latch." The kid beamed.

Peter rolled his eyes. "Of course you did.

Ender sat up and crossed his arms. "Cafall may have barked at her, but he would never bite that lady. He's smart enough to know he might get infected with girl germs. And even if there is some microscopic chance he did bite her, it would be completely justified as self-defence."

"Look…for my sanity, can you just go back down and apologise? This is the first day. We have to survive two weeks, and I'd rather not start out on the wrong foot. The bosses picked us because we are supposed to be this wonderful, loving family."

"They said that?" Ender asked. "But they've met us. Where would they possibly get that idea?"

"Leave Cafall here then please go apologise. And sound sincere…" Peter called after him as Ender stuck his tongue out and headed towards the door.

* * *

Downstairs, Neal finished setting the table, and Victoria seemed to have calmed down a bit.

Ender walked over and with his saddest eyes said, "I apologise for yelling at you Ms Victoria. I will do my best not to let it happen again."

Victoria looked like she was about to respond when Ender continued. "I only got upset because Cafall is a puppy; he wouldn't survive outside in this weather for very long. That's like leaving a baby outside to fend for himself. You wouldn't want to be accused of animal abuse on national television would you? What if he died? You would never live it down."

She glared at him then placed a strained smile on her face. "Just keep you uh...puppy out of the kitchen."

* * *

Once everyone had passed around the food and began eating Neal turned to Victoria with a coy smile. "Everyone is really excited about tomorrow evening Victoria."

Her eyes snapped up. "What's tomorrow evening?"

Neal took a bit of chicken and swallowed before continuing. "The dinner party you're hosting for the entire White Collar unit. Peter didn't tell you?" He looked over at Peter with an expression of absolute innocence the agent didn't buy for a second.

"I'm hosting a dinner party?" Now she was starting to look nervous. "For everyone you work with?" She glanced over at Peter who was about to put a stop to this whole charade when Neal beat him to the punch.

"Elizabeth has them all the time, she feels it's part of her duty as the bosses wife to encourage socialization outside the office." Neal plunged ahead with a wink in Peter's direction. "It helps build camaraderie; especially in such a high stress work environment."

_El is going to kill you_, Peter mouthed in Neal's direction, which the man ignored.

"Even Peter's boss is planning on coming."

"Wait…what…Hughes is coming?" Not it was Peter's turn to look surprise.

Neal nodded. "He can't wait. Told me so Friday evening, right as I was leaving work."

"What do I have to do," Victoria stammered, still look alarmed.

"It's really not hard," Neal shrugged nonchalantly. "Plan a menu of Hors d'oeuvre and other finger foods, canapés, crudités, that sort of thing. Add some wine, and other drinks. Pretty simple."

"Well, she's an event planner is there a place she orders from?"

Neal shook his head. "Not that I know of. Elizabeth loves to cook, so she tends to make things by hand…from scratch," he tacked on at the end, a smiling playing out on his lips.

Victoria pushed the food around on her plate, hand clenching the fork so tight her knuckles were turning white. "How many people are coming to this dinner-party thing?"

"Yes Neal, how many people?" Peter asked through gritted teeth.

Neal grinned at Peter, then at Victoria. "Oh pretty small, only 30 or 40."

Peter choked on his potatoes just as Victoria dropped her fork.

"I'm supposed to plan a meal and cook for 30 to 40 people, by tomorrow night?"

"It's not a meal, it's hors d'oeuvres. You don't cook hours d'oeuvres." Ender told her around a mouthful of chicken. "And 30 people really isn't that many. Mummy prepares events for lots, lots more."

The woman glared at him, and Ender made his eyes big and sorrowful, his lip jutting out in a pout.

"And everyone is just dying to meet you," Neal pressed on. "We can't wait to find out what sort of rule changes you'll make…don't say anything now." He held up his hand. "Peter loves surprises."

Peter glanced at the cameras then shot a death glare at Neal, miming the classic finger across the throat gesture. Neal just kept beaming and mouthed back. _That's for Alex._


	5. I Don't Do Dinner Parties (Part 2)

**A/N:** So this story is becoming longer than originally expected. I'm already up to seven pages in this chapter and haven't even written the actual dinner party yet. So I will be writing a third part to include that, then skip back over to Elizabeth at the Alworths. Hope readers enjoy this chapter.

* * *

**I Don't Do Dinner Parties (Part 2)**

Peter woke the following morning, leaning over with still closed eyes to kiss El only to find an empty bed. He shot up, searching for her before everything came crashing back. El was in South Carolina and Victoria Alworth was in the room down the hall.

Peter really wished he could call her, but it was against show rules. May be he could arrange something through Mozzie because even though they had been separated before due to travel or long work hours, they still kept in phone contact. And he was really starting to miss her and it was only the second day. Two weeks apart without even a telephone call was going to suck.

Glumly, he dragged himself out of bed and went to shower and dress. Work began in an hour and a half, and didn't know what sort of problems having Victoria in the house might cause this morning.

Once ready he jogged up the stairs to Ender's room and knocked on the door. At the "come in" he turned the knob and entered. Ender was in the middle of his morning exercise routine, as part of his martial arts training. One thing that really impressed Peter about the kid was his drive. No one ever told him to practice. Currently he was counting push-ups.

"Ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred." He finished, dropping to his knees.

"Don't you mean eighteen, nineteen and twenty," Peter smiled, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Ender folded his arms and scowled up at him. "I seem to remember kicking the ass of every FBI agent at your last PFT."

"Please don't remind me." Peter groaned. "And don't swear."

"Fine," the kid agreed. "But I still kicked their butts."

"And conned the group out of almost 200 dollars, I said don't remind me." Last month Ender had bet every agent at the test twenty dollars he could get a higher score than them. He not only received an almost perfect score, he did it using the male scoring criteria, and beat everyone's push-up and pull-up number.

"I wanted to buy a four-wheeler. It wasn't nice you made me give the money back, when I won it fair an square." Ender pouted.

"You took money from my boss and his boss."

Ender just shrugged. "They should know better than to gamble."

"You've been hanging out with Neal to much." Peter pointed to the bathroom door. "Go get washed up and come down for breakfast."

The kid smirked, stuck out his tongue and bounced off to the bathroom. "Just so you know, Mr. Bancroft gave me the money back."

Downstairs Peter found Victoria poking through the cupboards, probably for something to eat.

"We just eat cereal with some fruit sliced on-top most weekdays," he told her, trying to be nice and spare her (and himself) the ordeal of her cooking.

She jumped at the sound of his voice and he almost felt bad for startling her, then felt guilty he didn't feel remorseful enough. She was just really difficult to like.

"Um, I didn't see anything organic," Victoria replied looking around with narrowed eyes. "I try not to eat foods with artificial flavours or colours."

Peter walked over, opened the correct door and pulled out a box of cereal, placing it on the table with the pitcher of milk. "Well, all we have are Tasty-Os but I promise you they're delicious."

Victoria stared at the box, her lip curling as she began to mutter about grain bi-product and dangerous preservatives.

A minute later Ender skidded into the room, sliding across the wooden floors in his socks like he was on skates. "Breakfast," he shouted. "I want strawberries and bananas."

"Set the table," Peter told him, as he skidded to a stop in front of his chair.

The kid's jaw dropped. "But mummy always has breakfast ready." He looked at the box of cereal surrounded by nothing else, then glared at Victoria.

"Miss Victoria is still learning where everything is so be a gentleman and help this morning." Peter told him, his smile brittle.

Ender's face pinched up as he grabbed the placemats, laying them out followed by the cutlery and finally the bowls. All the while his little chest heaving and his breaths becoming more pronounced.

Peter caught him and picked him up, cradling the child to his chest. "Stop." He commanded. "You're working yourself up to hyperventilation."

The kid puckered his lips before finally taking as deep a breath as he could manage, visibly trying to calm himself down. Then to Victoria's astonishment he stuck his thumb in his mouth and nodded.

Satisfied, Peter placed the child in his chair and sat down to eat as if nothing was wrong.

* * *

As much as Peter hated leaving Ender home with woman, while he thought Victoria might annoy Ender and vice-versus, he didn't think they'd kill each other.

Finishing his breakfast in record time, he kissed the kid on the forehead and practically ran out the door. Leaving now meant he could arrive early at the office and calm himself down before he had to face the rest of the office.

Ender sat picking through his cereal and glaring across at Victoria. He was alternating between strawberry and banana slices to ensure they were being eaten at an even rate, his eyes never leaving her.

Victoria was trying not to be weirded out, by the continuous staring.

"So uh, I guess I need to take you to school," she asked tentatively.

"It's a holiday," came the response. "Teachers are in a conference, the calendar is on the fridge."

"Okay…ummm…what do you do when you don't go to school?" Victoria looked around.

Ender thought about it, then beamed. "Whatever I want." With that he got up, put his bowl in the sink and bounced off.

Now it was Victoria's turn to glare as she was left to clean up the remains of breakfast.

With the kitchen clean Victoria tried to think about what to do for this dinner party she was supposed to be planning. It wasn't that Victoria hadn't planned parties before. She'd hosted small gatherings for friends and family and put together birthday parties for her children.

But this lady she was replacing, was some sort of Martha Stewart on crack, with her designer house and elaborate parties. And the guests were obviously expecting Victoria to be the new Mrs. Burke, and put together some fancy gathering with expensive wines and canapés, whatever those were.

She got on the computer and googled the terms Caffrey told her last night, trying to figure out foods she could prepare and make a good impression. Something healthy that would teach city people used to their preservatives and chemicals the value of healthy, organic foods.

The bigger dog began whining at the back door and Victoria got up to let him out. "At least I don't have to walk you… mutt…" she muttered.

After a half hour search she found a couple recipes that could be made from tasty organic type variety foods, without harmful, cancer causing preservatives.

This meant shopping and while she didn't want to take 'the brat' as she dubbed him, she didn't think she could legally leave him home alone, or trust the house would be left standing. Gathering up her list she went to ask where the car keys were.

She didn't bother knocking since her kids were never allowed to lock their doors, and stepped inside the brat's kingdom. Ender wasn't visible but she could hear his voice, which meant he was in the room.

"Ender," she asked cautiously.

"What?" Came an accented little response and Victoria looked around trying to figure out where it came from.

"Where are you?"

"I'm in my ship currently taking over the entire Imperial Navy with my first officer, Lieutenant Cafall." Ender stood over up so he could see over the edge of his pirate ship, a hat on his head, looking like something from Pirates of the Caribbean. "And you have invaded our waters," he continued, "so surrender your vessel and prepare to be boarded or you shall be fired upon."

"Oh for the love of…." Victoria swore. "I don't have time for this. Get down we need to go shopping for this ridiculous dinner party."

Ender folded his arms and pouted. "But I haven't taken over the world yet. Now surrender, or face my wrath."

"I'm counting to ten," Victoria delivered her ultimatum.

"And I'm firing on you in five." Ender responded.

"One…two…three…" Victoria began counting.

"I warned you," Ender muttered. The next sound was a loud pop and Victoria squealed ducking as coloured foam balls flew in her direction.

"Oh good grief. What was that?" She yelled.

Ender popped back up again. "My cannon. I told you I was firing on you. Now you're supposed to sink to Davy Jones Locker."

"Get down here right now." She demanded, turning to glare at the cameraman who was barely containing his laughter.

"Fine," Ender scowled at her. "I'm coming." A moment later he appeared at the gangplank with his puppy and walked down it till he could climb down the ladder attached to the bookshelf.

"Where are the car keys?" Victoria was now more than flustered.

"Daddy took them."

"Your mother's car keys."

Ender just stared at her. "Mummy doesn't have a car. If daddy doesn't drop her off at work she takes a taxi."

Victoria stared at him with an incredulous expression. "You mean I need to stand on the street corner and flag one down."

"Well, you could but you'll be standing there for a while, they don't really drive through this neighbourhood." Ender shrugged, at Victoria's confused expression, finally answered. "You call one. Never mind I'll do it. Let's go Cafall," he told his puppy. "We have to do everything around here."

About twenty minutes later Victoria gathered up her purse at the sound of a honking horn.

Ender came running past her and was out the door with a, "make sure you lock up, this is a dangerous neighbourhood."

Grumbling, Victoria put the key in the lock and turned around just in time to see Ender climbing into the cab, talking animatedly to the driver.

"Don't get in that car," she shouted, racing down the walk and throwing herself inside the taxi.

"What are you thinking getting into a strange vehicle without me?" She grabbed a hold of his arm.

Ender pulled away. "It's Mr. Hoover. I know him."

Victoria stared, taken aback by the man in a traditional cabbie hat and dark sunglasses.

"Hello. I assume you are the replacement Mrs. Suit."

Victoria kept on staring.

"Doppelganger or not, I'm still running the meter." Mozzie continued, hitting the meter button, and putting the car into drive.

Victoria tightened her grip on Ender's arm. "You know this guy?"

"I told you." Ender gave her a pointed look. "He's Mr. Hoover. Mummy's friend. You seriously need to chill out, this whole type A thing you have going on is give you a stroke or something."

Victoria looked ready to jump out of the cab, her fingers digging into the leather of the seats.

The cameraman in the front had his lens pressed through the small window in the middle pane of glass separating driver and passenger.

"You're blurring my face right?" Mozzie asked the cameraman. "Cab driver or not, I have my right to privacy."

"Are you wanted by the mob or something," Victoria blurted out, practically drawing blood from the seats as she gripped them so tightly.

"Why is it that non New Yorkers always assume some sort of ridiculous delusions of doom and despair whenever they come to our city?" Mozzie muttered, then louder. "Unlike you I do not put myself on parade for the entire world to mock. 'The problem with losing you anonymity is that you can never go back.'"

Victoria folded her arms. "My husband and I chose this experience so we can help other's embrace a better lifestyle like our own."

"I see what you mean." Mozzie told Ender, then turned his attention to Victoria. "So where am I driving you to, unless you just want to run up the meter, which I am also fine with."

Thirty minutes later, with Victoria cursing about the exorbitant cost of New York taxis, the cab pulled up in front of an organic market.

"Meter's still running," Mozzie called as they exited.

Victoria grabbed a cart and after a second thought pulled out her hand sanitizer to clean the handle before touching it. "Here," she grabbed Ender's hand and squeezed some onto his palm. "This place is a germ trap, why don't they offer wipes to clean the carts?"

Ender stared down at his hands and rubbed his hands together in distaste. "You do realise that stuff only kills bacteria, and most illnesses comes from a virus, right."

Victoria ignored him and pulled out her list, perusing the aisles. "Why is everything here so expensive," she grumbled.

"Cause it's New York City. Location is everything," Ender said as he hopped onto the back of the cart.

A few minutes later Victoria selected some organic crackers, as well as several non-dairy cheeses and fresh vegetables.

Ender stared at the selections. "That's not what mummy would serve," he pointed out.

"Well, I am not your mother." Victoria snapped at him.

"No, but I thought the rules said you're supposed to act like _her_ for the first week. And mummy has good taste in food."

"My family loves what I cook." Victoria told him loftily.

"They're probably just too scared to tell you otherwise," Ender said to himself.

Victoria glared at him. "Come rule change you are going to give grown-ups the proper sort of respect they deserve."

Ender made a face. "The key word being 'deserves'".

"Just wait till your father gets home," she snapped, unable to think of anything else to say, and began pushing the cart towards cashier.

* * *

Back in the cab Victoria rubbed her hands with sanitizer again, now more aware of her surroundings.

"There is no need for that I sterilise my cab after every passenger," Mozzie called through the window.

"Hey you two have something in common, you're both germa-phobes," Ender added earning him a glare from the front and back seats.

"Do you want to come to the party?" Ender continued, ignoring their ire. "Ms Victoria just bought seaweed, to make organic tofu wraps."

The camera was still facing the backseat so it missed Mozzie's face. "As tempting as that sounds, I have an appointment to have my molars removed this evening, but that will be $87.82, cash is preferred, but credit accepted."

The cab smoothly pulled up in front of the Burke residents, and Ender hopped out leaving Victoria to pay the bill.


	6. High Class, Low Cost

**A/N:** I feel bad not writing El's side so here is a chapter on her before the dinner party. Her side is harder to write because it's so many other characters, but I think this came out all right. Next up will be Victoria trying to impress the FBI with her tofu wraps. Should be fun.

* * *

**High Class, Low Cost**

El was used to waking up early to leave for work, so getting up at 6:00 to prepare breakfast and plan the day wasn't difficult. And this was less work than normal. She usually prepared breakfast for everyone before making sure Peter made it out the door on time with Ender and that the kid wasn't plotting to take over the world in his free time. At least now, she didn't have to rush out the door to work herself.

The only thing she hated was making a strictly organic meal. Elizabeth liked healthy food she really did; she was a fan of fresh fruits and vegetables, even having her own small garden in her backyard. But Rebecca's gluten free pancake recipe left a little something to be desired. She had a feeling Peter was in for a miserable week once rule change occurred.

In an effort to make breakfast a little brighter (for herself) she opted to make the pancakes in different shapes using some metal cookie cutters she found in one of the cupboards. She also sliced up some strawberries as a topping since she couldn't seem to find any sort of maple syrup.

After spending so many years as an event planner, setting the table with an aesthetically pleasing look came naturally to her, and she was just folding the last napkin in a fan when the kids came in.

"Whoa," Samuel stared at the table, his mouth hanging open. "You make the table way nicer than mom."

"Oh," Elizabeth looked a little dismayed. As much as she hated the rules she was trying to act the part of Victoria for the first week. She thought it might make Tom more accepting of any changes she made during the second.

"It's okay, I like your napkins," Samuel tried to comfort her. She didn't seem as strict as his own mom, so maybe these two weeks wouldn't be so bad. If anything, he might actually be able to get away with stuff mom got all bent out of shape over.

A squeal caused both Samuel and Elizabeth to jump and turn towards the noise.

"Look…look…" Taylor was dancing by her seat. "The pancakes are animal shaped. There are elephants and butterflies and lions, look Daddy." She went bouncing over to him, pointing animatedly at the table. "She what Ms Elizabeth made."

Tom Alworth walked in and eyed the table with a discriminate eye.

"Sorry," Elizabeth shrugged, "after all those years as an event planner old habits die hard."

"No, you can't be sorry it's so cool," Cayden chimed in, as she plopped down in one of the chairs and reached for a lion. "I'm going to eat his head off first," she stated matter-o-factly. "Die evil lion."

Elizabeth smiled. That was something Ender would do, and right about now she missed her own family.

"It's Victoria's recipe?" Tom asked as he took his seat at the head of the table.

El quickly nodded. "Yes, the glutton free one from her recipe box. I found the cookie cutters when I was looking for supplies and I sometimes make pancakes in shapes for my son. Come to think of it, my husband likes them shaped too."

"It's fine," Tom waved everything off with his hand. "Once we eat breakfast Samuel does the dishes," he gave the boy a glare before turning back to El, "and you inspect them to make sure they're clean before they go in the dishwasher."

"Which doesn't make sense because I'm putting them in the _dish-washer_," Samuel muttered under his breath.

Tom either didn't hear or was choosing to ignore him. "Then you begin home schooling. All their lessons are written into the planner Victoria left."

"Where do they work," Elizabeth asked, between bites of pancake. They weren't completely awful, but the texture wasn't what she was used to.

"At the table," Tom replied.

"I have a math quiz today," Cayden jumped in. "It's timed and I want to get 100%."

Tom turned to glare at her. "Do not interrupt, you know better than to talk when adults are speaking. Wait till one of us addresses you."

Cayden looked cowed and dropped her head, mumbling her apology to her plate.

Elizabeth gave her a sympathetic glance but decided this was not the time to pick a fight about Tom's parenting techniques. "So what do you do during the day?" She kept her tone neutral, merely trying to convey a bit of interest.

"Oh," He looked a bit surprised but then sat up in his chair a little straighter. "Well, normally I'm working in my office, on paperwork and the like, but today I meet with a potential client today to discuss selling his home. He's from Mt Pleasant, a very high-class area. I sell for him and I'll make a tidy commission."

Elizabeth took in his jeans and a polo shirt, doing her best to keep a disinterested face. "Dressed like that? You don't wear a suit and tie?"

Tom glanced down. "Sure, I show houses like this all the time. This is my first potential Mt. Pleasant client though."

"I'm sure you'll be great daddy," Taylor told him. Having finished her pancakes she was tracing her fork in patterns on the plate.

"Gotta go, I'll let you know how things go this afternoon." And with that Tom stood and walked out of the dining room. A couple minutes later El could hear the front door closing.

* * *

An hour into home schooling and Elizabeth was bored. She truly liked spending time with the children and thought when she made it home it would be nice to do more things one-on-one with Ender; it was just she was used to her fast-paced New York style of living.

She purposely left Minnesota at 18 because she wanted the adventure a big city life promised. Controlling every aspect of three children's lives just didn't quite qualify as excitement in her book.

Currently she was grading Cayden's math quiz, a timed math test for her multiplication facts.

"No, I have to do it again," Cayden wailed, "I didn't get a 100."

"Sweetie, it's okay you got most of them right." Elizabeth consoled her.

Cayden didn't look comforted. "But I have to get them right. I know them."

"Well, why don't we take a break and do something else and you can try again later. Sometimes it's hard to get them right when you're upset."

"Okay," she sniffed and picked up her reading book.

Elizabeth turned to Samuel who was completing his own math pages. He didn't seem to like the problem he was on because he kept erasing his answer, counting on his fingers and rewriting it.

"Do you want some help Samuel," she asked.

He shook his head, then paused and nodded.

At least Elizabeth felt comfortable with 6th grade math.

"Where does your son go to school?" Samuel asked.

"Oh he attends a private school, Manhattan Prep."

Samuel thought this over. "Does he like it?"

El nodded. "I think so. They wear uniforms and he doesn't like wearing a tie, but overall I think he likes it."

"Does he have lots of friends?" Taylor chimed in.

"Yeah, he's pretty social." El liked that despite his past Ender got along well with other kids. "What about you guys, do you see your friends a lot."

"We don't have many friends." Samuel looked down. "Mom thinks everyone is a bad influence. Even some of the kids at chess club. I mean, all those kids are a bunch of geeks, how can they be a bad influence. Last week I got an invitation to a birthday party, and mom said I'm not allowed to go because Tony's mom has 'questionable morals,'" he finger quoted. "She drives a Mercedes, it's not exactly like she sells drugs out of her trunk."

"I take it you don't like chess." El asked. She never really got the game, but everyone around her was a fan: Neal, Mozzie, Peter.

Samuel was the picture of petulance. "I just don't get the point. You sit there for hours moving pieces around the board, and half the time no matter what you do you can't win. I think the only reason my parents chose it is because they don't want me playing violent sports."

"Well, I never got chess myself, but my husband and son like to play. Ender always says chess isn't about pieces on the board; it's about understanding your opponent." She thought about it for a moment. "Of course he also says one of these days he's going to take over the world using carrier pigeons, so I don't know how reliable his ideas are."

That made Samuel smile.

"So if you could choose you activities, what would like to do?"

Samuel thought about it for a moment. "I want to take martial arts like your son. And maybe play football. I used to play with the kids in the neighbourhood, and then I came home with skinned up knees and my mom said I couldn't play anymore."

El considered that. She would start looking into some possible martial arts groups and maybe a youth football league for the rule change.

"What about the girls?" She turned to Cayden and Taylor. "I mean, do you love knitting, or would you like to try something else."

"I suck at knitting," Taylor announced. "All I can make is a straight line, and when I try to turn I make a knot."

"My grandmother tried to teach me, and I was pretty lousy too," El told her. "She was old-fashioned, seemed to think it was a skill all young ladies needed to learn to be properly cultured."

"Well my mom isn't old so what's her excuse," Cayden pointed out.

Taylor's face lit up. "I want to have a birthday party where I can invite my friends. And have a pin…a pinto…a… one of those things that you hit with a stick and candy comes out. And I want to do it next week so I can have fun, and not have mommy try to control everything."

"You want a piñata," El corrected.

"Yeah those. With tons of candy, the real kind. Nothing organic. Other kids don't like that and last time I invited someone over they said they didn't want to come because my mom only let us do boring stuff and eat nasty food."

"Well, I love planning parties," El smiled. "So maybe we could sit down and talk about what you would like."

"I think you are the nicest fake mom every." Taylor jumped up and threw her arms around Elizabeth's neck.

The rest of the day seemed to go by all right. El did her best to follow Victoria's schedule. It was only the first day, and she did want to be respectful of the other parents, even if she disagreed, so she wasn't quite ready to follow Neal's advice of, all rules have loopholes and once you find them, you can bend them without ever really breaking one.

El was still trying to figure out the 'loophole' that allowed him to forge priceless artwork and bonds, but she was sure Neal had somehow justified it in his mind.

She was just finishing dinner when Tom arrived home, his face dark.

"So how was the meeting," El asked brightly, already anticipating the answer.

"The client doesn't want to work with me. Say's I'm not the sort of person who will 'understand his needs'" He fumed, dropping into the nearest chair. "I've sold hundreds of homes, even in this very difficult housing market, who does he think he is."

"Well, wealthy clients are often very picky," El pointed out. "I've dealt with several finicky ones in my business."

"I presented him with this great plan, and it's like he's not even listening to me. He just looks me up and down and says I'm not right."

El pinched her lips together nodded. "Can I ask, what was the client wearing?"

"A suit." Tom shrugged like he couldn't care.

"Sometimes they expect you to look that part. Especially in a large sale."

"Well that's just ridiculous. I don't need to wear some suit to sell his home. I've been selling homes for years, this is my business and you need to mind your own. Victoria is more supportive." With that he got up and stormed out.


	7. I Don't Do Dinner Parties (Part 3)

**A/N:** Thanks again to all the wonderful reviewers and readers. I'm sorry this chapter took so long, but I was trying to get the dinner party to work without it seeming too fake. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

**I Don't Do Dinner Parties (Part 3)**

Peter slouched in his desk, head resting in his hands. He still had to survive twelve more days of this mess because someone, somewhere thought this humiliation was entertainment. Twelve days keeping Ender and Victoria from murdering each other. Twelve days until he could finally see Elizabeth again. Twelves days until...okay he was trying to keep his thoughts g-rated while at the office.

At least he had work to keep him distracted. Now, if he could just sit up and focus, the pile of cases on his desk would be a welcome diversion from this problem.

A knock at the door interrupted the internal pity party he felt only the smallest amount of guilt for throwing and when he glanced up to tell Neal to come in, he was surprised to see Diana standing there instead.

With a wave of his hand he gestured her forward.

"That bad boss," she grinned and quirked her eyebrows inviting him to offer up all the juicy details.

Peter simply groaned. "If you know of anyone with a time machine so I can skip these two weeks, now would be a good time to speak up. I'll even give you all my vacation days for the year." He leaned back in his chair and rubbed his temples.

"Aah, but if I did that how would you take Elizabeth on her Caribbean vacation. Besides that would ruin all my fun."

Peter scowled at her, "You're as bad as Neal."

Diana gave him a calculated look, then explained in a rather matter-o-fact tone. "Boss, I would never want to do anything that might cause you conflict with the higher-ups. Think of all the good publicity you're supposed to be bringing us." She laughed then; smirking in a way that told him her intentions had nothing to do with helping the FBI.

"When my son gets caught hacking her email, or buying stuff off the Internet using her credit cards, I don't think they'll be singing the same tune."

"Tell him to pout and look cute, or better yet just blame Caffrey," she chuckled again, and dropped a file onto the desk in front of him. "Whitehill just agreed to flip on the Dorinsky brothers so we don't need to run those wire taps after all. He has tapes with everything we need."

"And to think, I was actually looking forward to sitting in the van."

"Sorry boss," she gave him a mischievous smirk then added. "So, your place around seven is it? I'm bringing Christy. It might be useful to have a doctor on hand."

No matter how much Peter kept trying to block this dinner party from his mind, it still crept back into his thoughts like that unwanted relative who refused to take a hint and leave. Technically he could cancel it. But that would mean explaining the why to Victoria and putting up with smack from the rest of the agents for the next year. "Tell her to bring a defibrillator in case I have a coronary."

"Just so long as I don't have to be the one performing mouth to mouth." She grinned and sauntered out.

"Yeah well if it comes to that, just let me die," Peter called to her retreating back.

* * *

Another hour and Peter finally felt a lot calmer. Granted, he'd shut himself up in his office and glared at anyone daring to think about disturbing his solitude, but that was one of the perks of being the boss.

Feeling like he could face the office without biting off the head of the nearest probie, he stood over the bullpen and gave Neal the two-finger point.

Neal offered his classic 'who me' expression, face full of exaggerated innocent as he got up and ascended the stairs.

Peter let him in the office first then closed the door aware several of the other agents were craning their necks and trying to get a good look at what was going on.

"So, you wanted to see me?" Neal leaned back in the guest chair and went so far as to put his feet up on Peter's desk.

The agent slapped them down again. "I'm laying down a few ground rules before tonight."

Neal sat up a little straight, his expression puzzled. "Ground rules? Peter. You're talking like you don't trust me. Me, the person who has gone out of his way to help you through this difficult and traumatic time of being away from your wife, and stuck with a raving lunatic." To emphasize his point Neal placed a hand over his heart. "I'm hurt that you would think so little of me."

"So if you're doing this solely out of the kindness of your heart would you like to explain to me why you started an office pool on how long it would take before I have a nervous breakdown."

Neal looked surprised and Peter felt the smallest bit of satisfaction at his ability to still keep one step ahead of the other man. The score was four and O after all.

"Peter we were going to use that money to help pay for therapy, for the trauma you're so obviously going to suffer during this incident." Neal blurted out.

Peter wanted to laugh but instead kept his face stern. "So you're saying I can't handle this. I spend three years chasing you all over the world, but I can't handle fourteen days of Victoria Alworth."

"You do seem a little stress," Neal tested to waters to see if Peter really was angry with him.

"I'm stressed because a certain someone waltzes into my home the day I'm meeting a woman who will be living with us for the next two weeks, and tells her to throw a dinner party for fifty people. Neal this is one of those things we've talked about. You making rash decisions, that lead to more rash decisions that lead to things stupid things like spending 150 million dollars of someone else's money with your ex-girlfriend. Or having a woman who thinks tofu is a food group host a party for people I work with."

"So are you rescinding your offer for me to hang out this week, because I really think everyone deserves a second chance?" Neal turned on the puppy dog eyes.

"Rule number one," Peter jumped in before Neal had a chance to really turn on the charm. "No more inviting people over to my house without my permission. I don't invite the entire office over to June's to eat your caviar and drink your wine just because I feel like it."

"I don't think June would object if you…"

Peter cut him off with a steely glare. "Rule Number Two. No trying to con Victoria. I'm the one that has to live with her and the rule changes, and you bouncing in and out like a jack-in-the-box playing your little mind games is only going to enflame the situation."

"In my defense, Elizabeth has thrown parties for the office before," Neal pointed out but at Peter's look, pinched his lips together, and tried to appear contrite.

"Rule number three…No illegal activity. There are cameras everywhere, the last thing we need is for whoever in the FBI is screening this footage to find something incriminating, they can use as evidence to throw you back in prison."

Neal appeared to actually consider that one. "So when you say illegal activity are you only talking about felonies or does that include misdemeanors as well?"

Peter continued on as if he hadn't heard what Neal said. "You break my rules and while I will not throw you back in jail I will shrink your radius to half a mile and restrict you from visiting any museums and galleries that might still be in the vicinity."

"That's cruel and unusual punishment." Neal actually stood up.

"Follow my rules, and we won't have any problems." Peter pointed at the door.

Neal gave him a scowl but headed for the exit instead of arguing more.

* * *

Victoria finished up her last wrap and placed it on the tray. They were a little lopsided, but who could possibly live up to the apparent perfection of Elizabeth Burke.

Ender had actually proven useful helping to set up the trays. He either learned from watching his mom, or had an artistic flair because they weren't bad, with different Hors d'oeuvre stacked together according to colour and type.

"I'm finished," shoving a spare piece of cheese into his mouth after he finished his announcement.

Victoria turned to see him chew a couple times, pull a face saying he clearly didn't like what he was eating and spit the contents of his mouth into his hand.

"This doesn't taste like cheese," he fussed staring at the mess in his palm. "It's all rubbery and uncheese-like." He sputtered. "My mouth feels sticky."

Victoria gave him a glare then grabbed his wrist, pulling him over to the sink and rinsing his hand off with soap. "It's an organic non-dairy cheese, made from 100% all natural ingredients." She dried his hand off and inspected it for dirt.

Ender puckered his lips and after another moment pulled his hand a way. "If all this stuff is supposed to be all natural how come I've never heard of a tofu plant?"

"You asked too many ridiculous questions. Go play with your demon puppy or something," Victoria shooed him off, not wanting to get into an argument. She grabbed a bag of mixed organic nuts and dumped them into a bowl.

The kid stared at her. "Cafall's not a demon, he just has good taste in who he chooses as his friends." He picked up the puppy and whistled for Satchmo to follow him to the backyard. At the door he turned back around. "And you can't serve those, I'm allergic."

"So don't eat them," Victoria grumbled, trying to figure out where she could put everything so it looked somewhat aesthetically pleasing. She thought about waiting until Peter got home and ask him, but from what he said in their first meeting, this really wasn't his thing.

* * *

A few hours later Peter returned, anxious to check the status of his home before everyone arrived. He was pleasantly surprised to find the house wasn't in shambles. Only a frazzled looking Victoria greeted him.

"Uh, this looks nice," Peter glanced around at the platters of food arranged on the dining room table and kitchen. He couldn't tell what half the food was, but rule number one of surviving a woman was 'don't ask, just compliment.'

"I don't know how your wife does this?" Victoria huffed wiping her hands off, and dropping the paper towel in the trash bin. "You two should be more focused on raising your son then these fancy get-togethers. Children can't be trusted to make their own decisions you know. Especially ones Ender's age."

"Well, we are a little new to this parenting thing, but so far it seem to be going all right. I mean he hasn't been arrested," Peter shrugged, then realised the camera was right in his face. "Uh…look Ender's a good kid, he just came from a difficult background. We try to remember that when considering what he needs."

"Hmph," Victoria sulked. "Maybe what he needs is for someone to give him a kick in the rear."

"Look, could we talk about this later, because in a little bit you're about to have a room full of FBI agents to deal with and my boss is coming. And, he's kind of a hard as…uhh… He's um, the boss, so we should you know…get this right." Peter stammered through. Oh, he hoped Hughes wasn't part of the editing process. Although, the man might take it as a compliment.

Victoria glared at him for another moment, then finally sniffed. "Fine. I look forward to meeting who you work with. Hopefully they're more normal than that weird paranoid guy with the glasses." She turned and headed back towards the kitchen.

"Wait Mozzie was here?" Peter called after her.

* * *

A minute later Ender came running in with the dogs at his heels. "Daddy, daddy you're home," he screamed leaping into Peter's arms.

Peter took a knee to the gut and barely managed to hold on. "Missed you kiddo," he kissed the kid's forehead.

"I taught Cafall a new trick. Wanna see?" Ender asked.

"Uhh," Peter responded. "Is this better than his last trick?"

"What's wrong with learning how to beg? Lots of dogs do that."

"Ender you taught him to beg for money."

Ender shrugged. "That's better than begging for food. Anyway look." He positioned himself in front of Cafall. "Bang!" He shouted, pointed his finger like a gun.

Cafall made a pathetic little whimper then rolled over, his feet in the air, and tongue hanging out.

"See," Ender beamed. "Isn't that way cooler than just saying 'play dead'."

"Very cool," Peter looked at the puppy who had rolled back over and sat wagging his stubby little tail. "Why don't you teach him to do something useful like vacuum the floor?"

Ender picked up the puppy. "Oh, he can already do that."

* * *

At 6:30 Peter answered a knock at the door. "Hello Neal," he said without even looking.

Neal beamed and handed Peter a bottle of wine. "June just got some new vintages in and Mozzie didn't want this one."

"You're kindness never ceases to amaze me," Peter took the bottle and stepped aside to allow Neal entrance.

"I aim to please," Neal sauntered inside, his eyes raking around the room. "So what's for dinner?"

"Non-cheese, cheese." Ender bounced in. "It was all rubbery and textury. I spit it out."

"Good to know," Neal was clearly looking around for Victoria because he kept glancing about, only half listening to the conversation.

"She's in the kitchen." Ender pointed. "I taught Cafall a new trick," he added.

"Better than his money trick? Cause Mozzie wants to borrow him for a table game at the park." Neal finally turned his attention back to the current situation.

"Okay, why don't you take Cafall up to your room," Peter pointed the kid towards the stairs.

"But I wanna go to the party," Ender whined. "I helped set everything up."

"Just don't use your puppy to beg for money." Peter warned.

* * *

An hour later the house was now full of agents and support staff, milling about laughing. Most held plastic glasses of wine; different people had brought, probably on Neal's suggestion. Fruit and vegetable and frui platters were being nibbled at, although Victoria had not yet set out the trays of wraps and other heavier food yet.

Peter wandered around exchanging a brief word here and there, but since he had just seen everyone at the office a few hours ago, he didn't feel the need to engage in any in-depth conversations.

The doorbell rang and Peter walked over to get it. He moved to welcome the person inside, then stopped short, barely able to keep his jaw from dropping.

"Agent Burke," Agent Bancroft stood there on his stoop.

"Sir!" Peter stammered. "I had to idea you were coming to this little get-together."

Bancroft almost smiled. "Ran into Caffrey in the hall and he invited me. Thought it be nice to come by and meet 'your new wife'."

"Come in," Peter stepped aside, allowing the other man entrance.

Bancroft entered glancing around at the décor. "Elizabeth has nice taste."

"So I keep hearing," Peter murmured. Was it too much to believe he had good taste as well? After all, he did approve of her decorating choices.

"Oh, before I forget, I wanted to offer you congratulations on the Dorinsky case. You and your team closed it fast." The older gentleman held out his hand, and Peter shook it.

"Thank you sir," he replied.

"And tell Caffrey he should check out the new impressionist exhibit at the Guggenheim. If he needs an FBI escort just have him give me a call." Bancroft gave him a wink and went to mingle with a few nervous looking probies who fumbled all over themselves to produce him a glass of wine.

In the corner Neal had currently roped Victoria into a conversation with Diana and Christi.

Victoria was clearly uncomfortable and kept eyeing the exit.

The conversation seemed to be getting tenser until Victoria excused herself and hurried off to the kitchen almost tripping into one of the techs from a different unit, Peter didn't know which. As long as it wasn't Organised Crime Peter wasn't going to complain.

Neal grinned, said a couple words to Diana and Christi who laughed, and headed over to Peter.

"Please don't tell me you're harassing her, Neal we talked about this."

Neal scoffed. "Peter would you calm down. All we were doing was filling her in about a couple of our higher profile cases. It's not my fault she's so squeamish."

"I thought I warned you," if Neal wanted to play games, Peter wished the least he would do was wait until the last day.

"I didn't say anything incriminating, I didn't try to con her, and I didn't invite anyone else over to your house. I'm following the rules." Neal crossed his arms starting to look irritated.

"Except for inviting Bancroft," Peter folded his arms as well.

Neal gave a charming grin. "He approached me Peter. How could I turn down your bosses boss?"

"Of course he did. Just go…mingle."

Eyeing the new office assistant Neal nodded. "Sure thing."

Victoria reappeared with a couple trays of food and headed over to Peter, her face stony.

"So looking good so far," Peter commented, trying to ease off some of the tension.

Victoria didn't seem too appeased. "Wrap?" She shoved the tray at him, and Peter took one out of courtesy.

She glared at him and walked away offering the wraps to other people. Peter took a bite and almost choked. He wasn't sure what this was, but it was disgusting. Fishy and rubbery at the same time.

"Told you the food is gross," Ender told him. "We should order takeout after this."

Peter nodded looking for the nearest trash bin.

"Aren't you going to swallow?" The kid asked, keeping a cherubic expression on his face. "Cause mummy always says spitting food out is rude."

With great difficulty the agent gathered some saliva in his mouth and choke the bite down.

Across the room Peter noticed more agents making faces as they took bites of their own food, and Agent Sandoval actually spit his back out onto his plate with a, "Good god, what is this crap, I mean um…it's different, family recipe?" He quickly added at Victoria's hurt expression.

"They're organic vegi/tofuee wraps," Ender called across the room and Peter noticed several people discretely folding theirs into napkins.

Peter glared down at him. "Ender, what did you do to the food?" May be he should have laid down the ground rules for Ender as well.

"Nothing," the kid pouted. "You think I need to sabotage Seaweed/Tofu wraps. You can't exactly make that tofu stuff worse than it already is. It's like cursed or something, it made my mouth all weird when I tasted it."

And with that he sauntered off to show off Cafall's new trick.

Peter let him go and turned his attention to the other dog. Satchmo had been wondering about getting pet, and was now eyeing the food with big, sad eyes. One of the agents decided to take pity on him, or just didn't want to choke down her food because she offered him a part of her wrap. Satchmo sniffed at it, then whined and walked off to stare pathetically at someone else in hopes of a different outcome.

Hughes wondered over a short time later, a glass of whiskey in his hand. "So Victoria is an interesting woman," he stated tactfully.

"That's one way to put it," Peter replied. A minute ago he had snuck into the kitchen and snagged a beer, not even caring that his drink was not considered dinner party material.

"You're missing Elizabeth, aren't you?" Hughes asked with a small smile.

Peter shook his head and groaned. "You have no idea."

Hughes patted his arm in sympathy. "I'll okay overtime if you want to run some late night surveillance."

"We don't get overtime as agents." Peter told him.

The older man shrugged. "You can still run the surveillance."

* * *

Finally, three hours, a spilled bottle of wine, and 90% of the tofu wraps in the garbage later, the party seemed to wind down with almost everyone out of the house. Mozzie probably made a fortune driving a lot of tipsy agents home, with his 'no change' when riding in his cab policy.

A couple of his agents stayed behind to help clean up the house and Peter told them they didn't have to come in to work until ten as a way of saying thanks.

Ender had fallen asleep on the couch, and Peter left him there for the time being. He had to go to school tomorrow and Peter didn't want to deal with a tired kid.

Neal was still trying to charm Victoria, or rather annoy her with his obviously fake conman charm.

"The food wasn't really what I would have chosen for this little soiree but overall pretty good job. I'm sure you'll be the talk of the office tomorrow. You really should think about throwing another one of these next week, have everyone get to know you more. Or maybe a backyard barbeque and invite the kids too."

"I've had quite enough of your city life to last me a lifetime." She huffed. "This was a colossal waste of time and energy. You guys are FBI agents? You clearly need your moral compasses adjusted if this is all you people do for fun, doing nothing but going to parties. It's...debauchery." And with that she stalked off to the kitchen.

"Well then I guess it's a good thing I'm not an FBI agent then," Neal replied more to himself than Victoria. He gave a satisfied smirk and headed for the door.


	8. It Looks The Same To Me

**A/N:** First I must apologise for taking so long to update. Between tons of obligations and losing my muse, writing has been rather difficult. This chapter continues to follow the escapes of Victoria, Peter and Ender although I want the next chapter to be about El. Then I'll see how things go for the rule change ceremony. I also have thought about a little subplot besides just Neal and Ender torturing Victoria so we'll see how that goes. But for now enjoy and let me know what you think.

Oh and Victoria's thoughts and views are not meant to be expression of any of my own, I just tried to think of any possible thing to make her look like the jerk that she is.

* * *

**It Looks The Same To Me**

Victoria was counting down the days until rule change. The day when all this crap would come to an end, and she could finally set the Burke household in order. The day when that little brat, and his demon puppy, would finally learn proper respect for authority figures. Obedience classes for that obnoxious dog and maybe some for the kid as well. Do they have obedience classes for children? She would have to look into it.

She would also be giving Elizabeth Burke an earful when they finally sat down around the judgement table. That woman clearly had no class, and even less character. Victoria was all for being tolerant of other people's lifestyles, but when someone was choosing to be grossly negligent and they were unable to make rational decisions that bettered themselves, she was fully obligated to point out their failings.

Currently she was sitting at Elizabeth's desk in the city office of Burke Premiere Events in a much too tight skirt and heels. Apparently dressing like Mrs. Burke meant four-inch heels and clothes that made her look like a hooker. It was only ten in the morning and her feet were already starting to ache.

"So Mrs. Preston is now insisting we change the tablecloths from eggshell to ivory," the assistant stated laying out two fabric samples that seemed almost identical to Victoria. She gaped at them for a moment, then back at the assistant.

"They're practically the same colour," she exclaimed, at the utter audacity of rich people. "Tell Mrs Preston who cares?"

The assistant stared, her expression incredulous. "You mean Mrs Preston, who chairs the Preston Foundation for Children, attends tea with the mayors wife and donates thousands of dollars to local charities every year. The Mrs Preston who is paying you to put cater who fundraiser for the new wing of the children's hospital. That Mrs Preston?" She concluded, looking at Victoria like the woman was insane.

"Like I'm supposed to care what this woman wants to waste her time and money doing. Doesn't Mrs Burke tell a client when they're being idiotic?" Then muttered to herself more than anything. "No wonder her child is a little hellion. She's a total pushover."

The assistant stared for a moment, her expression unreadable. "Are you seriously this much of a bitch in real life or do you think acting this way will get you more camera time?" And with that she dropped the fabric samples on the desk and sashayed out of the room, leaving Victoria with her mouth hanging open.

* * *

Peter was sitting at his desk, head in his hands, slowly and carefully massaging his temples. He needed an aspirin. No…correction, he needed a whole bottle of aspirin.

The entire office had been chatting non-stop about Victoria Alworth since before he had arrived that morning. Normally, as special agent in charge, he was one of the first there but upon stepping off the elevator he'd been shocked to see and entire room full of whispering agents, many of them not even from his division. It got worse when they all noticed him and every conversation ceased within seconds, all eyes staring at him.

Neal who'd been in the middle of all the hoopla gave a conspiratorial little wink, and then melted seamlessly back to his desk and burying himself in a file that Peter noted was actually upside down. The rest of the office all but tripped over each other in an effort to get back to their desks or their own floor and pretend to do some work.

Hoping productivity would reduce the tension headache pounding in his brain Peter walked to the top of the stairs and shouted for Diana, who rolled her eyes, but obediently followed him back into his office.

"Tell me have something useful on…" he paused trying to remember exactly what their current case load was, then gave up when the headache continued throbbing. "…some case we're working on. I need to arrest someone, or better yet" he groaned and leaned back, "shoot them."

"Since you can't shoot Victoria," Diana supplied with a smirk, carefully folding her legs and sitting primly in the visitor's chair.

"Or Neal," he tacked on with a grumble. "God, I wish I could shoot him right now. I don't even need to kill him, just maiming a limb would do."

Diana gave a coy smile. "But the party turned out so well boss. Christy went on for hours about how entertaining it was. She's all set to come back and try some vegetarian burgers at your next barbeque."

Peter glared till she had the grace to look slightly apologetic. "Oh come on Peter it's not like you had to impress any of us. We all knew this thing was going to be a total disaster. At least your house is still standing, and nobody died."

That clearly wasn't the right thing to say either because Peter's scowl deepened.

Diana sighed. "Get over it boss. If you want to feel better assign Neal extra hours in the van and don't let him do any coffee runs. Saves you the inevitable paperwork of having to order a new CI."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered.

"And it's not like the horrible woman doesn't deserve every awful thing Neal and Ender do to her." Diana added on. "Just wait till rule change. When she's trying to shove nothing but raw vegetables down your throat or telling you to get rid of your television surround sound system because the beta waves cause cancer you'll be needing them to remind her of her place."

"You only say that because you're not the one whose about to be humiliated on national televisions," Peter groused. "The only silver lining is my chance to tell the Bureau I told you so."

He glanced out his window to see Neal currently turning his report into an origami tulip, which he then handed to the passing mail clerk with a little wink and smile. She promptly blushed bright red, all but ran her cart into Agent Richards who was heading back to his desk from the printer.

She hurriedly apologised and kept on her way only to turn back around one last time to glance at Neal the flower still clutched tightly in her hand. He smiled a gain and gave the universally recognised sign of call me, to which she blushed even more before smacking her cart into Agent Phillips and his cups of coffee, which proceeded to splatter everywhere.

As everyone hurried to save the mail and blot up the coffee Neal just turned back to his desk and began folding another piece of origami.

"Van duty for a month," Peter told her.

* * *

After a long day of work Victoria hobbled to a taxi giving the driver the address of Ender's Kung Fu studio. Apparently she was supposed to go pick him up before heading home to make dinner. Just what she needed, going to a place, which glorified fighting and made future gang members.

The studio itself was in a decent part of town. At least it didn't look like any unsavoury characters were loitering about on the street. Climbing out of the cab she quickly cleaned her hands off with sanitizer before open the front door and then cleaning her hands again.

It was quiet in the front foyer with a single desk, a middle age Asian women sat behind, her long hair pulled back in a perfect bun. Not a hair out of place.

"Can I help you?" She asked, her voice high and thick with accent.

"Uh…I'm here to pick up Ender. I think Mrs Burke would have told you I'm staying with them for a week." Victoria stammered, realising how strange it must look for her to come limping in her in place of the obviously prim Mrs Burke.

"Oh, of course," she smiled. "Elizabeth explained everything. The class is still going on, but you can watch if you would like to. The children are sparring."

Victoria began walking towards the side door the receptionist pointed to when the woman called after her. "You need to take you shoes off."

"Seriously?" Victoria gaped, then at the woman's nod stumbled around to pull the heels off her feet. The only plus was that this relieved some of the pain she'd been feeling since the morning, however she didn't want to think about how unsanitary it was to put her feet on the floor.

Once inside she noticed all the children were dressed in little black uniforms with coloured sashes tied around their waists. They were standing in two lines on opposites sides of the room facing the centre and watching the mat in the middle where two children were currently in the middle of a match.

Glancing around she spotted Ender by his long, golden blond hair hanging around his face, almost into his eyes, and the fact that he was so much smaller than many of the other kids. May be she could get his hair cut as part of rule change, because this whole looking like a girl thing needed to stop.

The one thing that surprised Victoria was that he seemed to be paying attention to what was going on. She didn't think the kid was capable of standing still for longer than five seconds. At home he was constantly moving, fidgeting, climbing up or onto something, doing back flips of the sofa, or chasing the dogs around the house.

Now he stood eyes fixed on the match, his expression calculation.

A moment later on of the boys struck a direct hit to his opponents chest and the rest of the students began to cheer as he was announced the winner.

Victoria took a seat in one of the folding chairs by the side-wall, as both boys bowed to each other and shook hands. The instructor clapped his hands together and called the next pair to the mat.

"Ender come to the centre please and…" he paused perusing the rows of boys who all stood up a little straighter as if to demonstrate they were ready. "Keller, your Ender's opponent, come to centre as well."

Victoria watched as a boy at least two years older and several inches taller came to stand across from Ender. The kid didn't seemed the least bit perturbed by this and merely gave Keller a nod before stepping onto his line on the mat. Both boys bowed and then assumed fighting stances.

The instructor was just about to lower the flag to began the match when Victoria jumped to her feet. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she sputtered cause everyone in the room to jump.

"I'm sorry?" the instructor was staring at her, hand held up to signal a pause. "Who are you?"

"Ender is not fighting that kid, look how much bigger he is. What kind of school is this? Don't you have any standards of safety?"

All the kids were staring, along with all the parents. A couple other instructors in other rooms peaked their heads in to see what all the shouting was about. And Ender stood there, in his fighting stance a look of horror on his face.

"I can assure you we have the utmost standards to ensure the safety of our students ma'am," the man concluded, his expression perfectly calm, the only hint of irritation evident by the slightly tension in his shoulders. "We pair students by ability level, and both boys are evenly matched."

Victoria just stood their seething. "I want him off the floor right not. That or you pair him with someone else."

Ender glanced at his instructor then back at Victoria. "Just sit down," he motioned, waving his hand back at her chair. "You're ruining it."

"Don't you backtalk me," she snapped. "Get over here right now, we're leaving."

Ender didn't move, but his eyes flickered about the room. The television camera that had come in with Victoria was on him. He glanced at the instructor again. "Master Sung," he practically whispered.

Master Sung placed a hand on the kid's shoulder; a gesture to tell him to stay put, and calmly addressed Victoria. "If you could step outside right now, I'd be more than happy to discuss this with you." He handed off his flags to his assistance and motioned back towards the front foyer.

"He's not fighting," Victoria insisted, folding her arms and pursing her lips.

Master Sung nodded. "Ender take a seat for now," then he addressed the assistant, "Have Ri partner with Keller."

Victoria saw Ender scowling at her, his eyes full of tears as he took his place back in line and Ri came out to stand on his line. Then Master Sung swept her out into the foyer.

* * *

Ender wailed the whole way home. It didn't matter how much Victoria explained that her decision as for his own good, and it was her job as "mom" to make these sorts of decisions, or that she threaten to send him to his room for continuously crying, it did not good. He sobbed and bawled, tears spilling down his pinked cheeks. By the time they arrived at home his eyes were puffy and his nose was running.

He didn't even wait for the cab to come to a complete stop before jumping out and running out the steps slamming the door behind him before Victoria managed to pay the bill.

Inside she found him still crying in the arms of a very confused Peter, who had him cradled carefully to his chest and was smoothing his hair out of his face trying to make heads or tails of the kid's words. Apparently when he was upset Ender didn't speak English because he was speaking about a mile a minute and nothing sounded remotely like words from Webster.

"What happened?" Peter asked, rocking back and forth in an effort to calm the kid down.

Victoria dropped her purse on the counter with a huff. "He's being ridiculous. I pulled him out of his Karate class because the instructor insisted on having him fight someone who twice his size and he could have been seriously hurt. That and this whole barbaric fighting thing was really quite silly. Do you want him growing up to be on America's Most Wanted?"

"Ith thus onleee Keellller," Ender sobbed out. "Heess ethen a belt belows me. I wants her to go home now, and I wants my mummy back."

"Okay…okay…" Peter wondered if he repeated it enough, all his problems would be solved. "I'm sorry you could spar today, I'll make sure you spar next time, okay?" He lifted the kid higher trying to get a look at his face, but Ender kept his hair hanging down over his eyes.

"Oh no he's not," Victoria responded.

Peter glared at her. "Look, I don't care what your opinion is, first week you follow the household rules. That means you don't humiliate my son but pulling him out of class, or not letting him participate in activities. You want to play this game next week, fine; but for now stop being such a control freak."

With that he walked out of the room, leaving Victoria to once again stand there, her mouth hanging open.


End file.
